"Not likely that I can, Tom; but what is it, my dear friend?"
"Well, the case is this. Tom has had a good education, and made good use of it, you say. So far good. But what is to come next? His school days are over now, and lads must do something after they have left school, you know—lads that have got to make their way in the world, at any rate."
"No doubt that's true," said John; "but your Tom is not likely to give you trouble in that way, I hope. He isn't idle, is he?"
"No, not a bit of it," replied the father. "But here's the point. I want to make a business man of him, and Tom doesn't want, or hasn't wanted, to be made a business man of."
"Oh," said John; "but he doesn't rebel, does he?"
"No; rebellion is no word for my Tom. The boy never rebelled in his life. But somehow he has got hold of some queer notions that I never knew of till a few weeks ago. He had always thought, he said, that I meant to send him to Oxford."
"And did you not? I fancy I remember your saying something of that sort once when you and he were down at my place, and we were talking over our old Oxford days."
"Yes, very likely some nonsense or other of that sort was spoken, and that shows how foolish it is to say much before our boys and girls. The fact is, I hadn't made up my mind then about what I should do. But it seems that the boy was fired with the idea of going to college, and has been working hard—I will say that for him—to prepare himself for it. And now, poor lad, he is woefully disappointed that I don't like the thought of his throwing himself away, as I call it."
"Are you sure it would be throwing himself away?" asked Tincroft, naturally enough.
"Something like it, when you come to compare it with what lies before him in the other direction."